


Ivy

by whorror_jpeg



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Death Eaters, Developing Friendships, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fear, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gift Giving, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Intoxication, Male-Female Friendship, Mentions of Death, Minor Lily Evans Potter/Severus Snape, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Penis In Vagina Sex, Post-Death in the Family, Sex, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Yule Ball
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-06-09 15:04:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15270093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whorror_jpeg/pseuds/whorror_jpeg
Summary: You are the new, 25-year-old apprentice of Rubeus Hagrid at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and one of the professors can’t seem to stop thinking about you, despite his history with romantics.





	1. La Rencontre

**Author's Note:**

> To clear some things up about this fic, Hagrid is currently 48 and Snape 28. Hagrid is already the Magical Creatures Professor and Snape the Potions Professor.

If there was a reason for him to be there, he would have felt more comfortable with being in the place he was, but the overcast fact of him not understanding why he’d found himself in a small wizarding restaurant puzzled him, making him feel rather claustrophobic in his emotions. It’s not like the newly-made professor of Hogwarts had any coworkers who’d shoved their noses so far up his personal life that they’d want to follow him around. Quite the contrary. Most, if not all, of the wizards and witches he was co-workers with, were his old ones, and he still had yet to establish a well-seeked and confidant relationship with any of them- save for Dumbledore.

He watched as a girl with fish and chips came out before setting it down gently in front of him, regarding him with a smile.

Severus shakes his head, confused, “I don’t recall ordering anything.” he says, sounding more harsh than intended, but the girl paid no mind to the bitterness of the currently twenty-eight-year-old man.

“I know.” she smiled lightly before gathering other dishes and helping a struggling house elf. Confused, he carried on while watching her form. He’d had a perfect angle of the kitchen half-wall, counter, and entrance between the two, leaving him in peace to people watch– specifically and only the girl who’d shown him kindness where he didn’t expect it. He supposed if he hadn’t been soul-bent between the loss of his childhood love and his outgrowth toward the Dark Arts and, ultimately, He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, he would’ve been happy with the restful thought that there were still beautifully good people in the world in which he resided. But he was soul bent, and henceforth the bitter, brooding man.

He picked at the food served to him, wondering who’d paid for it. Did it come from the girl’s own Galleons and Sickles? Perhaps. Nonetheless, something was still bothering him. Out of all of the people that could’ve been so kind to him, why did it need to be the only girl in the restaurant who had a lock to her thoughts? He didn’t want to invade her privacy completely, just to understand why she’d offered help to a man who otherwise seemingly didn’t need help? And there was no hair on Merlin’s bloody beard that would convince him to ask her himself– absolutely not.

He supposed it was just in your good-nature. After all, while some would have ignored it, she had sat an elf on the counter to wrap a bandage around his cut hand. Some, if not most, would have also ignored him, or told him to simply get out or order something. But not her, and now it was really getting on his nerves why in the world she was so kind to himself and others with no fortification to do so; no gain or motive besides simply being kind to others. Perhaps she had sought to gain the same. Yet, as he watched her, he noticed the little things about her, like how she was so skittish around other actual wizards and witches, and how she’d put more trust in elves than her standard coworkers, and that confused him all the more because he could have easily sworn that she hadn’t been skittish around him.

You, were an absolute astonishment to his eyes. He’d never seen anything so complex and compelling as you’d been– and he himself was a potions master. He pondered on where you’d come from, as he’d never seen you before. Surely he would’ve noticed you at Hogwarts, and you didn’t cross his memory as far as he could tell.

Severus sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Above him hung a candle-lit chandelier, which hugged the area in warmth and light. A couple of fairies napped on it, hugging the wooded parts of it. He furrowed his eyebrows before looking back down. Somehow, you were now just next to him, offering help to a goblin with a sweet tooth. Rubeus would have enjoyed your company; the two of you would get along well, as you both shared an obvious affection for these… magical creatures and such. Before you left back to the kitchen, he gripped your sleeve a bit, making you jump and turn.

“Oh! You surprised me, sir!” you said with a smile and a hand over your heart. Severus apologized before thanking you, “It’s really not a problem, sir, honest.”

Snape nodded at your sweet smile, giving his best attempt at a smile- a quirk of his lips- before watching you go off back to business.

* * *

Snape collected his keys from his coat as the dreary rain made its way into his hair and down his neck, he hadn’t thought of bringing an umbrella, but now as the rain climbed down his spine, he was eager (as eager as someone like him could be) to get inside of his warm flat. Boxes filled the small space and the cleaning supplies he’d charmed continued their merry ways through the apartment. As Severus dressed for bed, he thought back to the (y/h/c) haired girl. You didn’t belong there- even if you seemed so happy to be working with the people you were. There was something off about you, something that kept his mind twirling with thoughts of you.

He pulled the covers up to his neck, relishing in the coziness of the heat made by the fireplace and blankets. In just two days time, he’d start his official job as not only Head of the Slytherin House, but also as the Potions Master. That in itself gave him slight anxiety. He didn’t go through upper wizarding school to further his education for nothing- it was expensive! The majority of his sleep was interrupted with thoughts and dreams of how the first week would go, and the all too familiar restaurant he had eaten from.


	2. Et Sic Incipit

Severus had already gathered his things and set up his chambers in the perfectly imperfect order of how he liked his things- and as he was now setting up his classroom, he heard Dumbledore's voice direct to another.

“And here is our other new professor, Mister Severus Snape.” he opened the door, using an arm to guide the person through.

His eyes widened, seeing to the young woman who’d come through the door-- _you_. His stomach sank, and in an odd way, he was alright with that. Your own eyes brightened, a smile crossing your face.

“Well I didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon!” you said excitedly.

“Likewise.” Severus nodded, looking between yourself and Dumbledoor. 

“I see the two of you have already met, perfect!” Dumbledore said in his old, scraggly masculine voice.

“Oh, no, not truly. He came to my old workplace just a day ago.”

“Ah,” the eldest wizard nodded, “Well, in any case, Severus, this is our new apprentice- Hagrid’s, actually.”

And then it all clicked. There were cracks in your brain’s wall, that did give him signs as to who you are and why you were so involved with creatures- and why the bloody hell Hagrid even came to mind at the restaurant. 

He shook your hand, “(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N), a pleasure.” you said with a soft and caring smile. He nodded back, giving a small smile in exchange before Dumbledore and yourself had taken leave, departing from him. From there, it was unusually quiet. He preferred it on a normal day, but you walking in as the apprentice of Hagrid had made it that much more…

He stilled, rubbing his hand over his eyes before standing, deciding to organize his ingredients cupboard.

* * *

As the first day had begun, Severus had already begun to notice his… distaste, for children. They were _noisy_ , and _disruptive_ , and at times utterly _foul_.

The dining hall was already bustling, Dumbledore had begun to announce that Snape, along with you, was new to the teaching profession, though no one really paid mind to Severus. He knew he was good at his job, but the strange feeling of having to stomach the younger wizards (and even witches) fawning over you was undoubtedly uncomfortable. He never once denied your attractiveness, but he himself was never one for such an _acquisitive_ custom. In addition, he was still in love with… _her_. Well, the memory of her, for that matter. His Patronus still remained that of her beloved soul.

“Professor Snape?” He slowly moved his head to the sound of the voice beckoning him, it was none other than your own, “How are you regarding your first day?”

“Just fine, thank you,” he says bitterly, unintentionally. You quirk your brow.

“I apologize for upsettin-”

“No, no, it’s my fault. Just a lot of… children.”

You give him a warm and caring smile, “Yes, children who keep money in our pockets and us from being jobless.” you attempt to joke. He feels a small Snape-esque smile bite his lip and nods.

“You are right in that.”

“I was wondering, Hagrid and I are celebrating tonight with our own quiet desert and games. Perhaps you’d like to join?” you ask lowly, almost seemingly embarrassed. He furrows his eyebrows, “I’ll keep it in mind.” he says finally.

“Hagrid’s hut, just after lights out.” you smile softly before turning your attention back to your meal.

And that’s how Severus Snape found himself standing outside of the carefully handcrafted hut that Hagrid so lovingly called home. He sighed, why was he doing this, anyway?  _ Because you asked him to. _

_Hell_ , he thought before bringing his hand up and knocking on the large wooden door. Almost immediately, the owner of the home opened the door, looking down at him.

“Oh! Professor Snape, how may I help you, sir?”

“I was under the impression of invitation, but I assume that is not the case,” he said lowly, beginning to turn away.

“ _Wait!_ ” a soft, feminine voice called out, “I invited him, Hagrid, sorry, I forgot to tell you.” 

Severus turned back around, seeing you talking to Hagrid.

“Blimey, well, come on in!” Hagrid said with a welcoming smile, to which Severus nodded slightly as he walked in, taking in all of the things that made Rubeus Hagrid’s home his. You’d sat back down and Severus sat in front of you as Hagrid made him an adult-version of a butterbeer. He sipped gingerly as you dealt out hands of cards for everyone.

“What are we playing?” he asked you softly.

“A muggle game, Spoons. Know it?” you asked with a smile, finishing dealing the cards. He nodded, sitting back and looking to his hand, “Whoever loses, takes a shot.”

“Of?” 

“A Russian friend gave me some homemade vodka!” Hagrid smiled happily, bringing out two spoons and setting them on the table before sitting in his own chair, “Supposed to be really strong!” he says in an eager tone.

As the game begins, Severus reaches for a card, handing one of his to you, and you to Hagrid. His quick hands quickly find a spoon, your own as well, leaving Hagrid to take a shot (which ultimately brings tears to his eyes as his friend definitely did  _ not  _ lie). And, after six rounds of playing Spoons, then poker, it was safe to say that the three of you were delightfully drunk. 

Now, the two of you were walking back to Hogwarts castle to your chambers, which was really only a few doors away from each other. You giggled and brought out your keys to your door, dropping them clumsily. He shakes his head, watching you struggle and takes the keys from your hands, briefly touching them as you laid your head on his shoulder. He brushed it off as nothing, yet, was that burning feeling in his cheeks from the liquor, or…? 

_No_.

He opened your door and you thanked him in an intoxicated mumble, saying goodnight as he closed your door for you and heard your struggles to bed after locking the said door. As he made his own way back to his chambers, he thought of the upcoming events for tomorrow. A basic repeat of today, his second-day potions class, new introductions, et cetra…

 

He sighed, unlocking his door. Hopefully, he’d have a better day. Well, he couldn’t complain that much about the full day, just the school day. The time he’d spent with you, he’d admit was fun- an adjective he’d not used in a _long_ time…


	3. Mientras El Tiempo Pasa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, some development here, I’m trying my best to portray Snape to the best of my ability and I hope it’s coming out good. I’ve never had this much idk anxiety…? about a series.

As the first few weeks passed, time seemed to slow, according to Severus. He’d built up some sort of friendly-co-worker relationship with you that he was comfortable with, and now got used to weekends at Hagrid’s and visitations from you in his classroom. He’d even caught himself in yours (and, albeit, Rubeus’), asking for information regarding living objects that go into potions, what you thought he should teach, and even to complain and let loose a bit after a particularly annoying or stressful class. This was one of those days.

“I don’t bloody understand what is so difficult about cutting ginger roots and extracting armadillo bile for a bloody wit-sharpening potion,” he grumbled, watching you feed a young Buckbeak and give him a scratch on the back of the neck.

“Well, then I suppose it’ll do them well to learn it. Use it for themselves, hm?” you ask him, smiling.

“Well I might as well!” he throws his hands in the air before groaning. You step back from the Hippogriff and walk to Severus, he watching you as you walked towards him and grabbed him by the face.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, Silly Snape,” you say softly, giggling at his- very bright- red cheeks as he blushed. He could feel it in his ears. Why you did it, he assumed to comfort him, but it left an old feeling in him. In the same breath, he could both describe you as comforting and discomforting and he couldn’t quite put a finger on what exactly made him so confused.

So he hid. For a week.

Given, if Rubeus hadn’t knocked on his door to see why he was avoiding you, he would’ve hidden longer.  
  
“Come in. he drawled from his desk, mindlessly marking away at papers. When the door opened and closed, he ignored it. It wasn’t until the person in the room stood at the corner of his desk. He looked up with a quirk of the brow before leveling his face back out when he found it was Hagrid.  
  
He had his arms to his side very nervous-like, a soft and concerned expression written on his face as he looked down at the Potions Professor.  
  
“Why have you been avoiding (Y/N)?”  
  
Severus was taken aback by his forwardness and leaned in his chair, “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  
  
He scoffed slightly (a noise from him so foreign to Snape), rolling his eyes (also very much foreign coming from the half-giant. Severus suspected he was picking up on your cattishness), “You know exactly what I mean. You never miss a night with (Y/N) and I, nor do you up and disappear from the dining hall and my classes when you need to rant and rave to her! Did she upset you?”  
  
“No! No, I’ve just been busy.”  
  
He squinted at him, “Bullshite, you’ve been busy.”   
  
Snape sighed, “I… I don’t know.”  
  
“Don’t know why you’ve been avoiding her or that she's done something to bother you.”  
  
“Both!” he exclaimed, sitting up in his chair, “ _Everything_ about her bothers me and I don’t know what it is about her that makes me so comfortable and so,  _so_ utterly uncomfortable to the point where I do want to be around her all the time! She's- She's so  _bloody_ intoxicating and it’s confusing!” he yelled, huffing at the end.  
  
Rubeus stepped back, surprised at his outburst… he wasn’t the type to raise his voice, but soon, that part slid from underneath Hagrid and he’d begun laughing. And Severus was  _not_ having it.  
  
“Bloody hell what are you giggling about now you daft dwarf-giant.” he almost growls sitting back again and crossing his own arms, making him look pouty.  
  
“Well, for starters, you’re pouting!” he laughed, not taking the insult to heart, “and Severus, not to be so involved, but it sounds to me you've got feelings for the little lass!"

Snape felt his ears begin to burn, “I absolutely do not!”

Rubeus laughed harder, nodding, “Alrighty then, come to the hut and apologize when yer ready. The poor girl’s been upset thinkin’ she’s done somethin’ wrong this entire time!”

At that, Severus felt sorry. With a wave of his hand, Hagrid was out the door, nearly skipping away.

He sighed, thinking of the multiple ways to apologize. It was after lights out -- surely you’d be in your chambers by now. Hagrid respected your sleep (as should everyone, really), and never left you to doing papers after dinner- he always finished them up.

He slowly stood, twiddling and worrying his fingers before making himself put everything away and borrow a card deck from Minerva (the woman had a serious gambling problem) and a bottle of wine from Flitwick before finding himself at your door.

 _‘This is stupid’_  he thought to himself, waiting at the door after knocking, almost jumping when you opened the door.

“Snape?” you asked softly, pulling your robe around you more, “what are you doing here?”

“Apologising,” he said bluntly in that deep Snape-esque tone, handing you the cards and wine. You looked down, confused, before smiling brightly at him. And hell, Hagrid was absolute, unequivocally correct. He smiled a bit, nervously almost, “Up for a game?”

“Or three?” you laughed, nodding before letting him inside, “Don’t worry about the Crup, he’s well managed,” you say, pointing to the fork-tailed Jack Russell Terrier. Snape nods and sits down at the table, “you know, I would’ve accepted a simple ‘I’m sorry’.”

“I know, but then, there’d be no reason to visit you at ten-thirty-nine in the evening.” he smiled a bit- a simple quirk of his lips as he shuffled the cards.

“What are we playing?” you asked softly, taking the cards after he was done and dealing them.

“Gin Rummy, know it?” he asks almost snarkily, yet you nod.

“Another muggle game, hm?” you smile gently, “My father taught me just before he found out I was a witch.”

At that, Severus quirked his brow, “Muggle-born?” he asks, to which you nod slowly, more focused on setting up the game.

“And you?” you ask finally, looking up at him.

“Half-blood.”

You let your smile grow, “Well, a half-blood prince of Slytherin, hm?”

He gives a soft chuckle at that and plays with you, sipping on poured wine from the cups you’d beckoned over with a flick of your wand.

He would’ve thought someone was hexing him, had it not been for his hermit-impulsivity. He lost all eighteen - _eighteen_ \- rounds of Gin before finally giving up and deciding to go to bed. You were laughing at him, and he wondered how in the  _hell_ you had so much energy at twelve in the morning, yet he didn’t ask. You were having a good time, and knowing he wasn’t being laughed at maliciously but was still part of the laughter made him happy-- it was foreign to him.

“Thank you, Severus, truly. You’ve really brightened my mood and done more than enough to apologize for something so little.” you laugh, walking him out.

He sighs, “I’m glad my humiliation and loss make you laugh.”

You roll your eyes before wrapping your arms under his arms, reaching up and setting your hands on his shoulder in a tight hug.

“Goodnight, Severus,” you say in a voice just above a soft whisper. It takes him a bit to loosen his muscles and hug you back, bidding you a good night as well


	4. Připojení Vánoce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, I needed drama to spice things up, duh. Anyways, yes, I do post on here in real time--as in I write it from my ass and post the shit after editing.  
> I actually had this chapter in mind already when I first started the series bc I'm a sad fuck :) enjoy!

As the months passed from fall to winter, Snape quickly found himself falling into the normal procedure of eating with you, working, you coming into his office, and repeat. He hadn’t processed how close he allowed you to get. He was comfortable with your touchiness and nicknames, the warm feeling in his stomach. 

The music of the Yule Ball played- slow, classic piano and cellos and violins all being tickled to make a beautiful harmony together. The students danced, hugging and swaying or ballroom, and Snape felt the tightness in his chest of what he could have but didn’t- of what he could’ve had and never did. His thoughts were interrupted by none other than you- and Merlin, you were beautiful, no denial coursed his body. The champagne dress and dark makeup with pinup hair brought your features out smoothly, and now you stood almost as tall as him. He assumed it was the nude heels that adorned your feet under the dress that he just barely caught glimpses of.

“Dance with me?” you asked cheekily, holding your extended arm to him.

He shook his head, “I don’t dance.”

You laughed, “Well, Severus, you’ve never been one to do much other than brood, now have you? Come, it’ll be fun,” when he still persists, you persist back, giving him a much softer look complimented by a smile, “Please?”

Severus rolled his eyes, and took you by the hand, leading you to the centre of the room, “Hell, I don’t even know where to put my hands- how do you expect me to do  _ that _ ?” he grumbles, gesturing to Minerva and Albus playfully ballroom dancing.

You shrug, “I don’t,” you say before guiding his hands to the top of your hips- meeting the bottom of your waist as you slid your hands up his shoulders and resting them, “I simply expect you to not step on my toes and to just sway with me.”

He gives a huff, despite the tips of his ears gaining an abundance of blood to them before pulling you a bit closer and looking down at you. You smiled, one of your hands lightly playing with his hair.

“You’re not as awful as some of these children say, you know,” you say softly. He gives a frown, “the children talk about their potions professor? How boring.”

You give a laugh, “I’m  _ trying  _ to compliment you, Snape.” 

He simply rolls his eyes before looking down at you again, watching your cheek meet his collarbone and just under it. Yet another thing so foreign to him; the comforting touch of another through trust. He skittishly wraps his arms around your waist more, nervous as to whether it was right.

“Truly, though. Your eyes aren’t as menacing- they’re, in fact, a lovely shade of dark brown.” you chuckle to yourself before looking back up to him. And for a second, he saw  _ her _ .

He immediately let you go, brisking away to the hall and breathing in deeply, exhaling heavily. It wasn't long before he heard your shoes (he didn’t need to guess) just behind him.

“Wh-what’s wrong?” you ask nervously, putting a hand to his back, “Severus?”

He spun quickly, “none of your bloody business, now be gone!” he bit, watching your concerned look turn to that of a frightened one.

“I-I was, I was just trying to help…”

“You  _ can’t  _ help, (Y/N).” he growled, “You make  _ everything  _ worse!”

You looked at him and met his eyes, tears forming in your own and Snape was so utterly hopeless and sorry for what he’d done.

You looked up, shaking your head before bringing your gaze back to his, “You’re an arse, Snape.” you say, walking away before abruptly turning around and scoffing, “If you’d let people in, you wouldn’t have this bloody issue. Not everyone wants you to hurt- some of us truly do care for you.”

He watched you walk to the teacher’s dormitories, assuming you’d be going home instead of the party again. And he was right. He could hear the subtle slam of your door from underneath him- he felt every inch of anger and hurt in your heart. He took a breath before returning to the ball.

“Oi, Professor Snape, ya seen dear ol (Y/N)?” Rubeus asked giddily.

“She went home- said she wasn’t feeling good.” Snape lied bluntly, avoiding the half-beings eyes.

“Oh, the poor lass. I hope she’s gonna be alright.” 

“As do I.”

* * *

Students had left two days after the Yule Ball, and on the third day, Severus began to worry. Hagrid hadn’t seen you and just thought it off as you going to see your family or friends- but Severus knew better. You would’ve told him  _ weeks  _ in advance- and never once mentioned visiting.

As he walked down the hall- he found you. It was odd, not seeing you in professional wear and instead in a jumper and jeans paired with sneakers (he never once understood that muggle term, even if he was a half-blood. They didn’t do well in sneaking about.).

He caught you by the elbow and you snapped your head to him, “(Y/N)...”

“ _ What? _ ” you bit, catching him off guard.

“Please. Come to my chambers, let me-”

“Apologize?” you laugh bitterly, “No. I should be apologizing, yeah? I make everything  _ worse _ , as  _ you  _ put it.”

He shakes his head, “No, that’s not how I meant it-”

“Then how  _ did  _ you mean it, Severus?” you snap, hurt and confusion morphing over the anger, “Because I have been trying to wrack my bloody brain as to how in the world I have done anything so awful to you and can’t find anything.”

“I-I can’t tell you- I don’t know how to explain it, I-”

You scoff, chuckling, breaking the grip he had on your arm and smacking your hands against your thighs, “I am trying to help you figure your shite out-- no, you know what? Figure it out for yourself. If you can’t open up to me then I give up-”

“You have _ no idea _ what I deal with every  _ fucking  _ day, (Y/N)!” he yells suddenly, eyes wide from the aftershock, you stepping back from his outburst, “I lost the love of my life before she stopped  _ breathing _ , do you know how that feels?! To not have that person that made you feel  _ worthy _ ? Do you know how hard it is trying to convey the emotion I feel for you without being bloody  _ scared? _ ” he whispers, voice cracking as a tear slips from his eye. You looked down, gathering courage before stepping to him and putting a hand to his cheek before meeting his eyes again.

“The person I love doesn’t even know he’s looking at the one person who would give them the  _ world  _ when he does.” you say softly, smiling slightly at him, “He doesn’t know how hard it is for me to not want to  _ hide  _ behind every corner because the person who was supposed to love unconditionally- loved conditionally, and was  _ so... violent  _ about it.” your own tear grazed your cheek, and at that, Snape choked on his own back-throated sobs and hugged you tightly, laying his head on your shoulder as you rubbed the middle of his back lightly and scratched the nape of his neck softly with your nails.

The two of you stood there for moments on end- disrupted by none, only in the company of each other collected by the warm embrace the two of you shared.


	5. Искусство сдачи

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting the ball rolling!!! I loved this chapter, it was so sweet to make, I love blushy Snape.

“What are you going to be doing for Christmas, Severus?”

Snape looked up from the piles and piles of papers that messily adorned his desk to look at you sitting on the corner, “Grading midterms, what else?”

You looked down at him, “celebrating, of course!” 

Shaking his head, he looks back down to the essay he was marking up, “I don’t plan on it.” 

You stood from his desk and turned him around, “I’m coming over Christmas morning and celebrating with you, and you’re going to like it!” you attempted to say sternly, yet ending in a laugh. Snape rolled his eyes and sat back.

“I’m going to bloody lock all of my doors,” he grumbled, looking to the side at the pile of essays before feeling you touch his face to bring his gaze back to you. Both of your hands cupped his jaw so perfectly.

“It’ll be fun. Nothing loud or annoying- just the two of us eating breakfast and such…” you say softly, “I’m not letting you spend Christmas alone, Severus.”

He gave an ‘annoyed’ sigh.

“Why is that your defense mechanism anymore, it doesn’t work on me, Silly Snape.” you laugh.

He rolls his eyes before giving a huff of a ‘fine’ and turned his chair back around (a funny sight to you, apparently).

“You’re a lovely bloke, Snape,” you said quietly, making his ears blush lightly before he gave a nod as you left.

* * *

As the couple of days passed and headed to Christmas Eve, Severus began to feel feverish- not in an ill way, but in a…  _ nervous  _ way. It was odd to him; since he graduated from Hogwarts he hadn’t ever really felt nervous. Why did you make him feel so many things…?

He rubbed his eyes, feeling overwhelmed. What  _ did  _ people do on Christmas? 

_‘This blasted holiday is going to give me an aneurysm,’_ he thought to himself before getting out of his chambers- dressed and ready for Hogsmeade. Gift giving was something that happened,  _ right?  _ Bloody hell, what did women like?- No, what did  _ you  _ like? Living things, coffee, drinking and card games, as far as he knew. 

As he scoured Hogsmeade, hoping for something to stick out to him. He’d gotten you a mug and put a bag of Cuban black coffee in it (he knew you’d appreciate it on the more difficult days), as well as a bottle of firewhiskey and your own card set- which had old famous witches and wizards’ portraits. And then the thing that’d wrap the gift beautifully up (save for actual packaging); An English Ivy.

That night, Severus sat anxiously in the chair of his study. Your gift sat at his desk nicely, and he silently hoped you’d like it as he fell asleep.

* * *

He slowly woke to the feeling of hands on his head, petting his hair, and light whispers of ‘Severus, wake up’. He looked up to your soft gaze and light smile before groaning and stretching.

“My back hurts,” he grumbles.

“I bet. Wakey wakey, Silly Snape, it’s Christmas,” you reply sweetly, taking him by the hand and bringing him out of his study and into his kitchen. Fresh groceries sat in a paper bag next to his stove- ones you bought presumably for the breakfast you’d promised him. You finally let go of his hand and stood at the stove, putting your hair up and lighting the stove. Severus stood next to you, his back against the counter and arms crossed at you started some hot water to brew coffee. As you cracked eggs onto a warmed pan and added fresh cheese, black olives, and bell pepper, Snape watched with interest. How could one person put together something so quickly and do multiple things all at once without the use of magic? You swiftly poured orange juice into two glasses just after putting bacon and buttered toast on a skillet. As you shuffled eggs around on the pan, Severus decided to test his luck. He came up behind you and gently laid his hands on your hips, making you jump slightly. Instead of him adorning a not-so-subtle blush, it was you.

“Wh-What are you doing?” you inquire softly, turning your head to him as he presses his chest to your back.

“Opening up,” he mutters back, resting his chin on your shoulder as you cook and looking down with a focused gaze and a furrowed brow. You turn off the stove, everything cooked well and ready for plates. He let you go, procuring two plates from his cupboard, along with silverware from the drawers. You split the food, coupling your orange juice with the fresh coffee.

You two sat in front of each other, stealing looks from one another and smiling. Snape couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled- truly smiled. 

“I, uhm, I got you something,” you say in sotto voce. He quirked his brow, “As did I.”

You pulled the present from your purse; seemingly a book with a bottle attached to it by a bright red bow, the next item being something of a black sheet.

You slid the items across the table, “I know your personal library is nearly filled with every wizarding and magic book I could think of, so I took a different approach and got you my favorite muggle book…”

Snape looked down from you and to the spine of the book, it reading ‘Black Beauty’. He smiled at it, before looking to the bottle. 

“What’s in it?” he asks, holding the bottle after untying the bow.

“A potion, silly. It’s for meditation in your subconscious- dreaming and whatnot.” 

He nods, looking to the black cloth. As he unfolds it, he realizes it’s a new cloak- an expensive one at that.

“You always look so cold with the one you have, I just thought-”

“(Y/N), you don’t have to explain.” he gives a small smile, “really. Everything is… perfect.” he finishes softly. You look up almost surprised before giving a large and bright smile.

  
“I have to get yours. I’ll be back,” he says with a soft voice, heading back to his study and retrieving the present carefully before coming back to the dining room and sliding the present from his side of the table to yours. You gripped it with all the love in the world. After opening it, you laughed a bit (which, admittedly made him feel embarrassed) before pulling out the mug with coffee and setting it to the side, “I’m going to need this, for sure.”

“I figured,” he says with a nervous smile.

You pulled the lush green plant out of the box and looked at him curiously.

“I, uhm, knew you liked living things and figured you could grow with it.”

You nodded, “ _ We _ could.” you corrected him with a soft smile before bringing out the brown paper bag of liquor and cards, giving a giggle before standing up and walking to him, he following suit as you wrapped your arms around his neck and his around your waist.

“Happy Christmas, Severus,” you say, kissing his cheek softly.

His face blushed bright red as he whispered back to you, “Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”


	6. Beijo

As spring approached, the air bustled with new life and, of course, Quidditch season. Snape was never really fond of the sport himself, considering his relationship with famous (or infamous to him), James Potter. Yet, when you asked if he’d want to attend the first game of the season, he said yes.

And now, here he was, waiting outside of your chambers after he had rapped on the door. You walked out in your normal teacher wear, the only thing different was the (y/h) pin that adorned your collar and your hair was down. He looked down to you, “Ready?” he asks, lending his elbow to you. You grasped it before locking your arm around it and grasping his bicep lightly. The two of you walked silently- not uncomfortably silent, Snape noted.

“Gryffindor versus Slytherin, correct?” he asked you as you exited to the playing field, to which you nodded, smiling up at him. The two of you went to the professors viewing, sitting next to Hagrid and Dumbledore.

The game kicked off and he was surprised you were cheering, but seeing you excited and filled with so much joy made him smile. By mid game, he shared your excitement quietly, standing beside you and clapping for Slytherin. When Slytherin won, you yelled and jumped, turning to hug him and kissing his cheek before nuzzling your face into his neck, smiling. And he, he didn’t know what to do. But, it seemed you did. You smiled at him after letting him go before intertwining your pinky finger with his before he decided enough was enough and to just hold your hand like a normal human being. He could hear mumbles and whispers, all aimed to the two of you, but you didn’t seem to mind, and so, neither did he.

The two of you stepped out from the stands, watching the team go back to their house’s dorms to celebrate, and congratulate them on their way back (he didn’t do much of the congratulating bit). You dragged him back to your chambers, smiley and giggly. He followed suit, closing the door as you let go of his hand to take your coat off.

“That was fun,” you said with a grin, hanging your coat up on a rack and being greeted by your dog, “Hello Toto!” you leaned down and pet him. Snape had taken his own cloak off and hung it up.

“What, uhm…” he began, you standing and facing him, he already knew his ears were a shade of dark red as he thought about the previous events, “What was that- back, back on the stands?”

You give a flirtatious smirk and played dumb, “Oh, what was what, Severus?” you say, now grinning and wrapping your arms around his neck, and almost as instinct he put his hands on your hips, “This?” you ask, connecting your lips with his shortly before pulling away, his whole face engulfed in a flaming red blush. You laughed at him and attempted to pull him away, but he keeps his hands well placed on your hips. You hit him with another soft smile before he cups your face gently.

She’s done it, as can I, right? He pep talks himself before leaning in and gently pulls your face to his and presses his lips against yours once more, feeling your arms tighten around his neck and play with his hair a bit, exhaling through your nose. He feels you smile in the kiss and gently bite on his bottom lip before leaving one last kiss and pulling apart from him.

“Always one to surprise, hm?” you ask with a grin and kiss his nose and his cheek before leaving his hands once more. He lets a hand fall, bringing the other one to pull you back to him, taking a step towards you and moving your hair to the side and kissing the back of your neck gingerly.

“You are absolutely, positively astonishing, (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” he whispers to you, kissing behind your ear before releasing you finally.

“As are you, Severus Snape,” you whisper back, letting your back meet his chest, sighing through your nose with a happy smile before turning again, kissing his jaw and wrapping him in a sweet hug. He wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back. “You have classes in the morning, Silly Snape.”

He gives a disgruntled sigh and nods, kissing your shoulder nicely.

The two of you bid adieu for the night, promising to meet in the morning.

* * *

 

As the days passed, your relationship with Snape began to grow. He had settled on hand holding in public and exchanging quick kisses in fleeting moments. The two of you had heard the gossip between the students; quite normal, save for the teachers becoming more involved in your relationship than the two of you had ever been. It really had begun to aggravate Snape, the whispers and being the talk of the school. He thought he’d left all the silly, childish games of bouncing between rumors and truth when he’d graduated, but apparently not. It had left him in a sour mood, especially when one of his own coworkers asked about the two of you.

“Why can’t anyone mind their own bloody business?” he groaned, making you laugh and kiss the palm of his hand before putting it against your cheek.

“People are prone to the atrocities of hearsay, even if they are also the victim of incredulity.” you shrug, going back to grading papers for Hagrid. Severus peered at you a bit before lifting your chin, making you face him, which you did so with a smile, “ you agonize over entities that are unimportant.”

He rolls his eyes, making you laugh a bit, “when did you become a philosopher?”

You shrug, sitting back in your chair with a smile, “since today, I suppose.”

He nodded in a taunting way with the upward quirk of his brow and a purse of the lips before mirroring you and sitting back in his chair, examining your face and feeling his face turn to a soft beam.

“What is it?” you ask with a raised eyebrow and a soft smirk.

He shakes his head in response, “Nothing. You’re beautiful.” he whispered before watching your face get dusted over with a sweet blush, making his smile grow. Snape understood that saying things like he had wasn’t something he often did, and being able to say it made his body feel warm, a new feeling, considering he had become cold and resilient over the handful of hardening years. It wasn’t that he didn’t seek the comforting air of someone he could take care of and they return the favor, it’s that he was fearful of allowing a gap to open in the walls he so easily had made. Authorizing you to clamber through the cracks, pushing past and breaking it down as easy as water through a broken dam. And, contentedly, he decided that the thought of letting you break his walls, even if it’s a measly crack, wasn’t as frightening as when he was younger.


	7. Iho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I :))) HATE :))))))))) ANXIETY :))))))))))))  
> but seriously, idk why but the ending of this chapter left me in all sorts of anxiousness. I don't want backlash I guess. oh well. >:)  
> anyways, who all actually looks up the chapter names, considering they're all in different languages? I mean, sometimes I feel bad bc I know there are people who don't speak English seeing this and being like "FINALLY SOMETHING IN SOMETHING I CAN READ" and then finding out it's shitty English lmfao  
> that being said, if there's anyone out there that'd like to translate this, send me a message!  
> ALSO SMUT WARNING YOU'RE WELCOME

Slowly, he’d noticed how comfortable the two of you got with each other; how any form of physical contact wasn’t the thing to make him blush, but more so the words and looks you gave him and vice versa. There was a certain _je ne sais quoi_ about it, and he didn’t want to find what it was. Everything was perfect to him. What perplexed him was, however, how… _different_ your relationship was, especially when being compared to everyone else’s. Sure, he wasn’t an older teacher, he didn’t feel the need to be married just yet (especially since the whole relationship thing was new to him _still_ ), and he _certainly_ wasn’t a student, filled with raging hormones and agonizing over how to give his partner the love he’d read in books. He made sure you were filled with self-love and appreciation first, then the caring qualities of him next.

You hadn’t told him you loved him yet, _right_? You would’ve been upfront about it, he would’ve heard it from you. He hadn’t said it to you yet, was that something he was supposed to do? Was he supposed to _tell_ you how he felt about you, or _show_ you?

Everything was so mind-boggling to him, and when you came to his room that night with unshed tears, asking if you could stay with him, he didn’t feel obliged to let you stay, because you said he didn’t have to. It was in his care for you that he let you.

And now, he was laying in his bed, your head on his chest, it beginning to become wet as the tears fell. One arm around you, stroking your shoulder softly as if to not break you or crack you, and the other running through your hair, his lips meeting your forehead ever so gently every once in a while to heal whatever it was that was hurting you. He didn’t want you to hurt, and the last time he’d seen you cry was because of him. Was it because of him this time as well? No, you wouldn’t have come to him if it were, you would’ve run to Hagrid. These thoughts ran loose in his head. If it weren’t him, was it Hagrid? Was it your family (one of which he knew very little of)?

“Caleb (Y/L/N) was released from Azkaban today,” you whispered against his chest. He almost didn’t hear it.

“Who?” he asked a little louder than your octave, almost challenging you to speak up, yet, you didn’t.

“He was in for,” you take a breath, “for killing a witch, and the attempted murder of another.”

Severus looked down at you, sitting up, you following suit and leaning against the headboard. He took a hold of your hand gently, running his thumb over your knuckles while you took a breath and wiped your tears, staring at a wall in front of you.

“How did he get out?”

You shrug, “Good behavior, I suppose. He had to do fourteen years, and it’s been nearly thirteen,” He nodded, “I was twelve,” he looked at you incredulously.

“Was he your father?”

“Yes,” you say, choking on a sob. In response, Snape pulls you to his chest again. It explained a lot, why you turned away from people- save for a handful- and turned to animals and magical creatures. They hurt people when they felt _threatened_ , people hurt people as they so _pleased_.

He was surprised when you had thrown a leg over him, laying completely over him and muttering something about safety and for him to just hold you. He complied, feeling that familiar blush. He hadn’t been on this level of intimacy with anyone, and it proved itself through the beating of his heart. He glanced at his clock, two in the morning. It didn’t matter, the next day was Sunday- or was it today? Nevertheless, he didn’t have to teach, and he could stay in bed with the comfort of you all day.

“(Y/N)?” You hummed sleepily against his chest in response, scratching it lightly. “I love you.” he finishes just above a wind of a murmur. He can feel you smile against him as another sob hits your chest, “I love you too, Severus.”

* * *

He woke up to kisses along his cheek and jaw, his neck and collarbones. They were sweet, sensual, full of love. He gave a low grunt in appreciation and wrapped his arms around you tightly, kissing your forehead.

“Good morning sleepy.” he hears you say, feeling the smile against your lips as you press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. _How did you not have morning breath?_

“Good morning,” he mumbles before you sit up and lean down to kiss his forehead one last time, getting up afterward. He watches your frame while you disappear into the kitchen, setting up for coffee. He slowly follows, examining the uncovered portion of your back from the thin strap shirt you wore, your skirt lightly brushing against the tops of your knees revealing your calves. He doesn’t understand why your skin is making him so distracted, but he comes behind you, pulling your hair to the side and kissing the back of your neck and bending down to leave a kiss between your shoulder blades. He feels goosebumps rise against your skin as he grazes his lips and teeth against your skin. You turn, rubbing your hands up his chest and kissing him as he grips your sides while you nibble at his lip. He opens his mouth a bit, greeting your tongue with his own as he tastes you, groaning a bit. He can feel your hands travel lower, meeting his naval before traveling back up and wrapping around the back of his neck while you press yourself fully against him. His hands grow peckish, grabbing at your hips then the back of your thighs, bringing you up to wrap around his waist. He can feel you, all of you, against him, and it makes his pants restricting and tight, warm, overbearing and underwhelming. His breathing hitches after he feels you grind against him, giving a whisp of a breathy moan into his mouth.

" _Distract me._ "

He complies, leaving your mouth, trailing his kisses down your neck, your face in an expression of congealed enjoyment and satisfaction while your hands grip resistantly through his hair. He lets his own moan cross the foyet of his lips and against your skin.

This was happening, and yet, it felt as if it wasn’t. He would take his time with you, as the universe had done so while creating such a beautiful and passionate and diaphanous person.

He carried you back to bed, where he gently laid you down and led his hands to the hem of your shirt as if asking permission. When you nodded, he lifted it, kissing at your abdomen as the fleeting shirt exposed more and more skin. You helped him take it from your body as it hit your chest, and he could feel your surprise when he kissed and even nipped at the portion of skin between your breasts before gingerly kissing each individually.

“Sev- Severus,” you gasped, gently moving hair from his face as he looked up at you through his lashes. Your face was dusted with a soft pink and eyes glazed over with a cloudy euphoria.

“ _You’re so beautiful,_ ” he whispers against your skin after you unbuckle your brassiere. He gently mouthed over your breast, ending at your nipple before doing the same to the other, allowing his hands to find the elastic band of your skirt and pulling it away from your body slowly, following its fiery trail like he had with your shirt, kissing and nipping at your thighs that were hanging from the edge of the bed before running his hand along your pelvic bone and dipping down, grazing your clit ever so gently and feeling the wetness that had pooled in your knickers, making you buck your hips impatiently.

Coming back up, he swiftly tugged at your panties, letting them fall on the floor. He could see the self-consciousness etched in you like a perfectly sculpted art piece that Michelangelo had done himself-  equally care infused and emotionally worked into every crevice, dimple, and layer that all added up to _you_.

You were an art piece with no obtainable price besides the utmost compassion and love that someone was willing to give to you. Something so desired and only he was allowed to have. And he looked at you as such, holding so much love and tenderness and adoration in his eyes for you.

“ _Please_.” he hears you whisper, looking up to him with imploring eyes and a desire to touch and be touched while sitting up and grasping at his sweater- one he’d chosen to sleep in often on cold nights like last.

He obliged, stripping himself of his shirt and pants, before looking at his own underwear- nervous. He couldn’t have even remembered when he was naked in front of someone except when James and Sirius caught him in the showers one day to torment him. And that left him anxiety-ridden, now overriding into the present. You shake your head and sit up, palming at his stomach and leaving kisses on it while your hands explored. He could feel them making way to his buttocks, the backs of his thighs, up the front of them, and to his cock. He whimpered a bit, gripping your shoulders for support as you released him of his underwear, your lips lowering before giving a kitten kiss to the tip of his erect cock. You looked up to him, he meeting your eyes half-lidded.

“You’re safe with me, love,” you say softly, nodding at him with a caress of a smile.

His hand pushed you back a bit, putting weight to your stomach to make you lay again as his body leaned over you and pressed a hand to your center while the other caressed your face, support coming from his elbow on the mattress. He found your clit, making you jump a bit as if you’d been shocked. He circled around it before applying pressure and rubbing in such a way that elicited such _beautiful_ , _delicious_ moans from your throat and making your eyes screw closed. In turn, he kissed your shoulder, biting and sucking generously, leaving love marks as he delved into your wet cunt, allowing you to accommodate before adding in two fingers to stretch you out nicely.

“Se-” you gasped and moaned before his fingers left you and he gently eased himself inside of you, making you hold your breath and tear at his skin with your nails, leaving angry red crescents in the wake along his shoulders. He gave a groan- almost a guttural growl, before connecting your lips fiercely, pushing in once he felt you relax around him and set a slow, sensual pace. His free hand, with nothing else to do, found its way back to your clit, his thumb rubbing over it to give you more stimulation because _upon Merlin’s beard would he cum too soon if you kept squeezing around him like that._

He removed his lips from yours, opting for your collarbones, sucking on the delicate skin and leaving angry bruises in his wake before standing completely, gripping both of your thighs, and dragging you to him, leaving one to rest on his shoulder as he found a deeper position this way, kissing your ankle. He dragged his hand down your body as you moaned excitedly, bucking against him to find your release, jutting when he returns his thumb to your clit, rubbing it harder than before in an attempt to make you hit the point you’d been longing for.

You do, driving him to his orgasm, and absentmindedly, as if something takes his instinct, he moans- one in which he was sure to have never expected. One in which, he was sure would ruin the relationship between you, forever.  
“ _Lily_.”


	8. Wasweka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck kiki, i know y'all love me 
> 
> lmaooo anyways, here's a sorta dramatic filler chapter. all the love is greatly appreciated, i can't tell y'all how funny it is to fuck with you. but the excitement is what's keeping me going, that, and i love this fic

The moment the name slipped from his lips, his heart dropped to his stomach. The look in your eyes no longer post-euphoric, shattered and confused were your eyes. 

“What did you just say…?” you ask- no, more of a statement than a query. You pushed him from your body and he felt his world collapse, “I-I need to go.” you stutter, trying to comprehend how exactly to even leave, trying to figure out what in the world was going on in his mind, yet, he didn’t know either.

“(Y/N)-” he whimpers while you put your clothes back on, making your head snap to him.

“ _Don’t,_ ” you say harshly, eyes anew with unshed tears. You were trying to appear strong and indecipherable, but he knew how you felt. Broken, dizzy, scared, all just words that didn’t add up to anything near what you truly felt, “ Don’t you _ever_ say my name again.” you growled, voice breaking before storming out. He could hear the door slam and feel the walls reverberate.

It was funny, how only sometimes the weather matched a person’s mood, as if to mock. The rain had set a steady and fast pace while no sun was to be shone. He resonated with the thunder, the cracks of lightning. All of it felt too close to home, too close to his heart, and Snape slipped onto his bed, still in shock of what he’d done. He wondered how he could fix it, but the point still stood that he’d said someone else’s name instead of your own. Even if it was your name as well, the image as he came was of her, and that made his stomach churn perturbedly. He had the sickening feeling that there was no fixing what had happened, that the trust you had embezzled him with was shattered, and he’d have to continuously attempt to fix it, yet how? Who in their right mind would moan another woman’s name when he was with someone he loved in such an intimate way?

* * *

 

        It had been three months since it had happened. Every time he saw you, you’d give no look to him, immediately leave a room or break any sort of eye contact when he was in your presence. It hurt, and he wondered if you were in the same pain as him. No, it must be worse, even still. He watched you leave the dining hall immediately when he entered, and he followed you down the hall. 

“(Y/N), please-”

He watched your body snap to face him, scaring him slightly, “What do you want from me?!” 

Severus could see the tears in your eyes as he placed his hands on your elbow and cheek, only for you to step away from him, “(Y/N), I-I, I love you, it was an accident-”

You scoff harshly, “ _Love me_ , do you? You have a truly _awful_ way of showing it.” you bark. He begins to try to say something- you cut him off a third time, “Do you understand how impossibly hard it is for me to trust in the first place? And I trusted you! I trusted you and you _ruined_ that- you ruined _me_.” you ended with a whimper, your held back tears cascading down your face. He knew he shouldn’t, but he gently brought his hand back up to your face, wiping a tear with his thumb and watched you struggle with not trying to give into his embrace.

“Severus, you cannot keep trying to find Lily Evans in me,” you say with an ironic laugh, not caring about the water that dripped to your cheek anymore, “I am _not_ her, and she _isn’t_ me. Sev- I-I-I-I can _never_ compare to the memory of your first love, because she’s _dead_ , Severus. And, as harsh as it is, she isn’t coming back. And until you decide who you want; the memory of a love or love in itself… I can’t continue to be hurt by _your_ loss.” 

By now, Snape’s own tears brinked his eyes and watched as you shake your head and stepped back, “Figure your shite, Snape, because I’m not doing it anymore.” you whisper before turning away and leaving him once again. Leaving him to his thoughts, to the confines of his own body. He felt trapped, and finally, he turned, going back to the dining hall.

As he ate, he didn’t speak, he ignored the looks and small snide remarks everyone made. How he broke the new magical creatures teacher’s heart. You’d become a dear to everyone, someone everyone looked up to and adored. And now that you were hurting, everyone was staring down the perpetrator.  It was punishment, one that only Merlin could bring upon his heavy soul. He pondered on when it would end but knew it was what he deserved, and that phrase replayed in his head loop after loop after loop.

He was on hall duty that night, much to his displeasure. It wasn’t like he was going to sleep, but he’d rather relish in loneliness and heartache by his own doing than wander the dark halls, but came to top the realization that it might’ve been better, as he saw you and Hagrid just outside of your door. His first instinct was to yell at him, for him to get away from you, but at a second thought, he saw you crying and Hagrid merely attempting to comfort you.

“-not that I _don’t_ want to forgive and forget, but I can’t get that memory out of my head.” 

“Aw, dear, maybe we could ask Dumbledore to put your memory away?”

“No. This- it’s just a learning curve, Hagrid. I’ll get over it- maybe.”

“(Y/N), I haven’t seen that man love in a _long_ time, and he loves you. He just happens to love her as well.”

“But I’m not her-”

“And I’m sure he knows that. Just give him time-”

“I told him that. And he’s taking it, that’s for sure.”

He watched the two of you hug, bidding each other a good night, before you went into your chambers and he another direction, probably his own home for the night.

Snape knew the difference between the two of you- he did. And he loved you as much as he did Lily and knew he couldn’t love her more than you because the fact stayed true that she was dead. Yet, why was it so hard to distinguish memory from the present? The both of you had such a pure, and good heart. But… 

Lily _never_ loved him the way you did, unconditionally and flawlessly. She never loved him- _at all_.


	9. Maitheanas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a very short- BUT IMPORTANT!!!!- chapter. hope you guys enjoy!

The thought swirled his head like a curse.

_ ‘She never loved him at all.’ _

It played like a melancholic tune, one of a sore nostalgia that still tugged at his heart- but in a different way. In a way that made him angry almost. He had chased after Lily Evans for as long as he remembered, only for her to deny him and fall in love with James Potter, and now that he had someone who truly and genuinely loved him, he couldn’t- didn’t- want to let go. 

He found himself in Hagrid’s pumpkin patch, being greeted by an adolescent Buckbeak. The air had gotten warmer, moist even, making the pumpkins grow much more. His plan was to simply take a walk through the Forbbiden Forest, greet the foreboding trees and mossy earth. Most would be frightened and nervous about it, due to its uncontrolled magic and unguarded creatures, but he didn’t feel the disappeal of it. It was peaceful to him, platonically welcoming.

But now as he stood in front of Buckbeak, he reminded himself of his mission- his end goal. There was no more avoidance for this, only face-front endurance. He expected you to be here, staying with Hagrid. He knew he was the closest thing to family for you right now. In fact, he could hear you talking to him, he just couldn’t get himself to knock on the door. Something so simple seemed so hard, it was almost comical, had it not been for the utter truth that lay in every thread of it.

“What are you doing here?”

He turned, and there you stood, eyes glazed and red, nose red, cheeks the same. And yet, how _breathtaking_ you were.

“You look beautiful, even like this,” he said softly, watching you wipe underneath your eyes.

“What do you want?” you bite, sniffing a bit.

“To apologize, make an amends…” he replies in the same soft tone while walking toward you, “You gave me a choice, and it made me realize- quite a lot. About myself, about my life…

“I’m sorry, for not realizing you were the first person to love me- to _genuinely_ love me. Even though I am so, _utterly_ broken in places that can’t be fixed, you still took me the way that I am and disregarded what everyone saw as bad, the rumors, the glares, and odd glances. You understood me without asking, you let me in without wanting _anything_ in return besides an equal amount of love and time you put into me- and I was _stupid_ enough to deny you of that. I know that I don’t deserve you-”

“You’re damn right you don’t.”

“But… I also know that I want you in my life, with me, _always._ ” he finished, looking at his feet, playing with his fingernails. They were cropped and dirty, bloody from the nervous tick he had made himself of biting them. He heard the sigh you gave before he felt you envelope him in a hug around his midsection. He missed this, _you_. The warmth and feelings that came with you, the comforting simplicity of your being, it all made him forget the bad and still made his heart skip beats and stomach jump for joy. 

“You owe me a lot more than an apology, Silly Snape,” you said in his chest, making him chuckle.

“I know, love,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his cheek against it, sighing and closing his eyes. You leaned your head back, meeting his now open-eyed gaze and cupped his face with both your hands before pressing your lips to his softly, tears intertwining with mouths, leaving a salty taste on his tongue.

“Oh, thank _Merlin_ , I didn’t know how long I’d be able to handle the two of yer mopin’!” Hagrid’s voice boomed, surprising Snape a bit and making you laugh.

“Go away you goofy giant!” you groaned in a joking way.

* * *

He woke up in the middle of the night, you wrapped completely around him. He could hear the soft breathes you gave in your sleep. The two of you didn’t make love that night, just thrived in the comfort of being together again, sleep hitting the both of you hard from _months_ of emotional exhaustion. He slowly unwrapped you from his body, going into the living room and sitting at an open window, observing the forest and Black Lake. Such beautiful things, given a dark name. He couldn’t understand it. Chills ran up his body as the wind blew, giving a cool breeze compared the warm springtime air. School would be out soon, the students would be sent back home for a few months and then a new semester would start once more. The muggle saying of time flying when you were happy was true, he supposed. He remembered how you introduced him to it, _‘Time flies by when you’re having a good time,’_. You didn’t mean happiness in that moment, but he supposed it was fitting as well, he thought with a chuckle.

The floorboards creaked softly before he felt your hands snake around his bare waist, nails trailing his stomach before retreating to his back, rubbing it as your lips met the skin between his shoulders- a favorite spot of yours, and his as well.

“Why did you leave bed, darling?” you asked sleepily, pressing your cheek to his shoulder.

“To think a bit… it’s odd, how one little thing-” he says turning around and placing his hands on your hips, “-can change a person’s life so drastically.” his lifts your chin with his hand, smiling down at you, gaining a tired smile from you. You leaned up, kissing the side of his chin before taking his hand, mumbling something incoherent about being sleepy before dragging him back to bed.


	10. შერიგება

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here have some smut and foreshadowing bc that's all i could come up with :))) also a big shout out to my favorite SurreptitiousSwallow for helping me out so much!!! if you guys haven't read up on her fics, definitely do!

It was a week into summer vacation when he got an owl letter. It wasn’t one he was expecting, but the letter was anything but expection-meeting. Now, as he paced the floor of Dumbledore’s office, deep in thought and mind racing between such, the eldest professor cleared his throat.

“I believe it would be… profitable, for the Order,” he said slowly as if to not frighten him.

“Profitable in  _ what way _ , Professor? The Order’s Trounce Enemy is seeking the help of me, and you believe we’d gain in  _ what _ ? Blood?”

“Inside content.” Dumbledore hummed as if it were as easy to put together as a children’s puzzle. 

Snape turned to Albus slowly, “As in… a _spy_?” he asked incredulously, drowning in disbelief and worry, “Professor what if they want me to cast the three unforgivable curses? Take another’s life? I-I, I don’t think I can do that.” 

“They believe you are more than capable of that itself, and I believe you are more than capable of going through it and _still_ remaining your good self,” he said with a smile under his beard. That struck a nerve within Severus, and as he thought, he found himself agreeing with Dumbledore. It’d be beneficial to the Order, stomach churning or not.

He unlocked his door, after other three-and-a-half hours of talking about how it’d all be put together. He was scared, worried about what Dumbledore said, _‘Be ruthless if you feel the need. Be Voldemort himself’_. He had told Snape that he knew he’d follow his heart.

With a sigh, he opened the door, finding you asleep with a book on your chest- and it tugged at his heart. He was torn, how would you react to it? Did you even know about The Order? Probably not, and with that, he decided not to say anything about it as he bookmarked the page you were at, sat it on the side table, and kissed your forehead. 

“Come along love, let’s get you to bed,” he whispered against your skin, stirring you awake just enough to wrap your arms around his neck as he gripped your legs.

“Where’ve you been?” you asked in a sleep filled mumble, to which he hushed you and laid you on his bed, taking your shoes from your feet and undoing your pants, kissing your knee lightly.

“In a meeting with the other Head of Houses.”

You gave a hum in response before pulling the duvet up your body while Severus himself got undressed and laid next to you, taking you in his arms. You finally opened your eyes, smiling softly and cupping his cheek.

“Is everything okay, darling?” you asked him, lips touching his softly as you spoke from the closeness between you.

“Yes.”

You shifted so your head was against his chest, listening to his heart beating against his chest in a tranquil manner. He admitted you calmed him, you had that sort of presence about you that was so simply intoxicating. Perhaps that was why you were so good with magical creatures.

“We’re getting Ukranian unicorns this next month.” 

He could feel your smile against his bare chest as you spoke, “Is that so?”

You nodded, “They all have to be trained, and Dumbledore wants me to do it instead of Hagrid. Thinks he’d intimidate them.”

“I bet. Man’s the size of a bear.”

“With the heart of a puppy.” you giggled, making him smile.

* * *

 

The next morning was filled with paperwork, mailing final grades and writing invitations to newcomers. Well, it was supposed to be, anyway.

Quiet grunts and sounds of Snape’s chair moving filled the locked room instead. He didn’t exactly know how paperwork led into you on top of him, moaning and grinding your hips against his as he nipped your chest, hands squeezing your hips so sweetly and hard while yours roamed his body. He didn’t peg you to be the type of person to be needy enough for risky sex, but that was out the window as of now. 

Your hands trailed to his face as you rode him, breathy moans escaping his mouth as you kissed him. He growled, picking you up and laying you on his desk, letters be fucked, he’d worry about them later. He watched your head lean back as you began a loud moan, only to be covered by one of his hands as the other met your clit, wet with your juices. 

“ _Please_ , please…” you moaned under his hand, eyes closed tightly as your hands reached for something to latch onto. 

He moaned, pressing his forehead to your breast, “(Y/N).” he whispered, “I love you.” his hand left your mouth to meet your waist, squeezing sweetly.

“I love you too.” you replied, “Please don’t stop.” you wrapped your legs around him as he met you with a new angle, the one that found the spot you craved the most, making you cling to his body and walls squeeze around his cock perfectly, leading your orgasm and his own.

He kissed your breast tenderly as you pet his face with a post-euphoric grin, before slipping out of you and straightening his tie, pulling his pants up and tucking his shirt back in with an equally-blissed grin. He eyed you, watching as you dressed yourself back into your clothes and stealing his suit jacket, smelling the inside of it.

“ _Well_ ,” he said, chuckling, making you smile all the more, “That was certainly unexpected.”

You shrug, “And _what_ was? Owling grades all day, writing invitations to witches and wizards?”

“Something of the sort.”

You snorted, “Surprises aren’t _always_ bad.” you dismiss, “And at least there’s nothing on the letters besides the smell maybe.”

He cringed and smiled at the same time, tapping the back of your leg playfully as you turned to grab your hair tie.


	11. Magbigkis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort's appearance is based on the book AND the movies (his humanish form at least) and is before he has finished splitting his soul, this is also before Bellatrix and Barty are put in Azkaban. And yes, I know that when Voldemort attempted to kill all of the potter's, that's when he died and became what his is as we all know, I just needed a few different things changed so Snape can later watch V become himself.

He could feel someone watching him. He’d been able to since he written back to… He-Who-Shall- _ Still _ -Not-Be-Named. It was nerve splitting, and he often woke up in a cold sweat from the paranoia. His body had begun to opt for sleep less and less, and two days ago was the last time he’d slept.

Wait, no, it was three, he concluded.

The Malfoy mansion was loud, unapologetic, obnoxious, gothic… all the words that didn’t really seem to go together until you looked at the house, but here it was in its Elizabethan-Victorian era (how could someone make a house inspired by both queens?) house. Confusing as it was, he was still invited to dinner with the Malfoy’s and was greeted by their house elf, Dobby.

“The Master will have you in the dining hall,” he says skittishly, not making eye-contact. A fresh purple bruise splayed across his large, lost, anxious eyes. Snape was never one for slavery of the elves, but in the end, he kept to himself and stuck up for his own beliefs by not making that sort of purchase.

Slowly he followed behind, realizing he wasn’t the only one attending dinner with the Malfoy’s. Various people- all odd looking in some way, all powerful witches and wizards in their own rights- sat at the long table.

It wasn’t long before he saw the faces of wanted witches and wizards, and it wasn’t long before he understood that this was a _Meeting_ , and the Malfoy family were death eaters themselves.

“Severus, my dear friend, come, sit, sit!” Lucious said happily, holding his son in his hands and attempting to get him to eat peas or something of the sort. Snape made his way to Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco. As he sat in a chair next to them and played with his hands underneath the table, Narcissa spoke up.

“I always pegged you as a death eater, Severus. What with your _dark_ , brooding nature, love for the dark arts, _bloody hell,_ you even created a curse!”

Suddenly, he felt like he was going to be sick. Yes, he made that curse, but it was during a time of abandonment, sadness, and dare say he, suicidal thoughts? Regardless, he wasn’t that man- that  _ boy _ , anymore, and he knew he’d need to remind himself of that more often now.

“Yes, how  _ did  _ you do that?” a woman with long, curly black hair asked in a high pitched voice, looking as if she didn’t have the means to actually care for an answer as she played with the open ring of her cup.

Severus had to think a bit, “A spell is just a word with deliberate conviction, meaning, and emotion,” he began, sighing through his nose, “I could cast the spell before I had a word for it.”

That piqued her attention, “You don’t use words to cast, hm?”

Severus thought before shaking his head, “Not often, no.”

“You and the Dark Lord both,” she smirks with pride for her leader, before Narcissa gentle swats at her arm.

“Don’t scathe the poor man’s conscious already, Bellatrix, you’ll get in trouble. We musn’t compare the great Dark Lord to someone else!” she harshly whispered. Bellatrix acted like a scolded child, looking down at the cup again with a pout before raising her eyes to Severus and smirking.

A man arrived and took a seat in a chair, excusing himself for being so off-time. Lucious waved him off, Snape made note that this man was Barty Crouch Jr., the son of Bartemius Crouch in the ministry of magic. He seemed full of himself, proper somehow in the mix of it. 

“My father is onto me, if he truly finds out, I’ll be sentenced to Azkaban!” he laughed a bit, “Quite _dumb_ , my father.”

“Bella would end up there before you, Barty," Lucious began, “What with her carelessness.” he snided, making the aforementioned woman scoff and roll her eyes.

“Who’s this bloke, hm?” Barty asked, grabbing a piece of bread and tearing at it with his hands, “This the Lord’s new _pet_ , yeah?” he laughed.

Snape worried the inside of his cheek as Narcissa and Lucius tried to contain the two death eaters, the other two continuing to make joke and poke fun, it all made Severus think about what serving such a dark being really did to someone’s mind.

The room was filled soon, talkative men and women, even children,  _ how did children so young already aspire to follow their parents’ path?  _

And then, _He_ walked in, a quiet cloud dropped over the room, all talking ceased and everyone looked to Him. He was tall, _handsome_ almost, save for the almost blurred appearance of his face. His eyes hung a nearly scarlet hue to them, the sclera being bloodshot and tired, his irises a deep brown. Snape examined how his skin had a deathly undertone to it, almost bluish as if he’d been too cold- perhaps is he’d touched the man, he  _ would  _ be cold. He could see the chunks of brown hair that had begun to fall out, making him look older and his thick hair look almost thin. He had a strong jaw and nose, his body seemed thin and lanky in the dark black suit that clung to him, the small juvenile boa constrictor on his shoulder looking stronger and thicker than he, even with its short length.

The man sat at the head of the table, scanned the quiet room, observing all of the individuals that sat in it, before settling his eyes on Severus.

“Good evening, my friends,” he begins, “We have a  _ very  _ special guest today.” he waves his hand to indicate Severus, who keeps a strong stature and unemotional expression. He nods in recognition to everyone who welcomes him, “And Severus, I am _so_ glad you accepted our invitation. Of course, you won’t be leaving without my… special, mark, or something quite wasteful.” he rolls his neck, making the veins in his neck pop out. 

Snape cleared his throat, “I didn’t plan on anything different, my Lord.” he says with a pseudo-smile towards the man- Voldemort, as he went by now, no longer _the boy, Tom Riddle_ , even if he looked as such- and he never seemed to notice the counterfeit of the smile.

This seemed to please the Dark Lord, as he smiled gratefully, “I’m glad.” he nods, before standing once more, his snake, _Nagini_ as he heard her being called, made her way to Snape, who rose from his own chair, watching as Voldemort walked to him, unbuttoning the sleeve of his left arm and rolling it up, “Your sleeve.” he commanded shortly, and Snape followed, rolling his own left sleeve up and being faced with Tom’s height, as well as his left hand grabbing Snape’s left arm. Severus copied the motion, looking into the eyes of the man that he was signing his soul to. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him as the snake and its master wrapped around him, Nagini wrapping around his right arm and slithering upwards of his neck. He could feel the reptile’s tongue flick out against his neck, and the blunt nails of its owner dig into his flesh.

“Do you swear to devote your life to me, even if it means giving it up?” he asks, a newfound dark tone in his voice.

“I do,” Severus replied confidently.

“And do you swear to fight beside me, live for our cause, and protect your comrades?”

“I do.”

“And do you swear to the secrecy of all things discussed, all plans?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Voldemort pulled his boney, vulture looking wand from his pocket and pressed it to Snape’s left forearm, mumbling a soft spell with conviction, and a white-hot pain seared his arm, making Severus gasp and jerk his arm back, unable to due to the other man’s vice grip. The two watched as his skin boiled over, eliciting red into his pale arm, and slowly the picture of a snake coming from a skull began to play out like a movie on his arm. The snake quite literally slithered out of the bone mouth, flicking its tongue before finding a resting place on Snape’s arm, and the burning stopped. The risen blood left the area around his brand blotchy and irritated. 

“In a few days time, it will calm itself,” Riddle said softly, letting go of his arm as Nagini found her way back to her master.

Snape looked down to his arm. He could hear the blood rushing through his veins in his head, and his breath quickened. How was he going to explain anything-everything to you now?


	12. Tšabo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY sorry about the hiatus, I got really sad. just letting you guys know i AM looking for a beta reader.  
> anyways, the chapter after this is where it's going to pick up more significantly in the timeline of snape.

The nightmares persisted. If they weren’t just as horrible before, they certainly were now. Terrors of large snakes and a reptilian looking man being reborn in a cemetery and drinking the opal blood of a unicorn. Dreams of the same man finding out about you and laughing, before deciding you weren't worthy and ultimately killing you.

At least, that was the most common one.

He awoke to you rubbing his chest from behind, kissing the back of his neck. He looked at the small clock on his bedside table, it reading just a bit after two in the morning.

“You were crying in your sleep again, darling.” he heard you whisper, felt your breath and lips against his neck as you talked. He rolled on his other side and hugged you, not responding and simply letting himself be at peace with your liveliness, spreading love from his veins to yours as he kissed the crown of your head.

“When are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

He hummed, “It’s nothing. I just… don’t want to lose you to anything.”

You smiled, sitting up, and he admired how your naked body looked in the shadows of the night as you pet his cheek, “You have me. I’m here, and I don’t plan on going anywhere else.”

Snape gave a tired smile in return, “I know.” he shrugged, kissing the outer side of your thigh through the sheets, “I just worry.”

You watched as he laid his head on your leg, petting the flesh underneath the blanket while you raked your hand through his hair. Snape had quickly begun to realize you were his safety; always there when need be and always so warm and comforting, understanding and logical when he couldn’t be. You were home, where he could always go and get away from things in life. Like a real imagination.

These nights played out more often than he’d like to admit, but if it made him continue to feel sane, then so be it.

* * *

 

“Do you have to go?” he heard you ask quietly as if you didn’t truly want him to hear. He sighed longingly, “Yes, you know I have to.” I don’t want to.

He heard your feet pad against the wooden floor of the now shared flat before he felt your cold hands against his naked and thin back, pressing lightly before each of them slid their way down to his sides, gripping at his ribs. Your lips pressed against his shoulder blade, hands sliding up his front and resting on his pectorals, your nails lightly dragging against his skin and leaving behind goosebumps.

“I love you, Severus.” You whispered against his skin, _why was his immediate reaction to cry?_

“I love you too, darling.” He said as soft as you, turning around and hugging you so he could press kisses to your hairline and forehead, rubbing your back gently. 

“Why are you crying, love?” You question a bit louder than a whisper, complete unconditional care laced in your words. He shakes his head, leaving without a word.

* * *

“So, Severus, tell us, what is it you do with your free time?”

Snape looked up from his plate, “grade papers, read. What else?” He grumbled boredly. 

“Oh, really? I would’ve thought there’d be other things you do, how boring.” Bellatrix replies smugly. 

“What did you expect?” Snape snapped his head toward the younger woman. 

“You don’t have someone to comfort, to play house with?” She grinned sinisterly. 

_ She knows.  _

_ No, she doesn’t.  _

_ I can’t lie.  _

“I prefer to not talk about my personal relations, unlike you, Bella.” He bites smoothly, wiping his mouth from the loose food he was eating. Bellatrix gave an amused laugh. 

Bellatrix dropped the question only after Narcissa had kicked her under the table. Snape was thankful, both for conversational loopholes and Narcissa, despite her being truly dedicated to something sinister. 

As the night ended, Narcissa had caught Snape, who was only trying to get back to his lover. She made small conversation before she brought up the same question as earlier. 

“And don’t lie to me, Severus.” She chided. 

Snape rolled his eyes and thought a bit, “Yes. Why does it matter?”

“Because whether you like it or not, the Dark Lord will find out soon enough. And when the time comes, you’ll need some defense from everyone and their bloody scrutiny. Knowing you, she’s likely a fragile muggle-born.”

“Don’t you  _ dare _ speak about her like you have any clue as to who she is.” Severus snapped aggressively. 

Narcissa looked at him with surprise, staying quiet for a bit, “You truly love her, don’t you?” 

Snape swallowed harshly and looked down, nodding, “she’s… the only one that’s ever given me the same energy, the same time- bloody hell, the same emotional value as I have to them.”

That wasn’t true, he knew. The only father figure he’d ever have was Dumbledore, and whether he’d like to admit or not, Minerva and Hagrid were both on a familial scale that he often looked to. 

“She’s only ever given me understanding and acceptance.” He said so softly, Narcissa almost didn’t catch it, however, she did catch the glint in his eyes from unshed tears. He was only barely keeping himself together, she could tell. 

“Then protect her, Severus.” She said quietly, holding his shoulder. “I’m sure He will understand if he ever finds out. I’ll be behind you, I promise.” 

He nodded, thanking her and left in the carriage that had brought him. 

* * *

“Horcruxes?” Dumbledore questioned surprisedly, truly uncharacteristically.

Snape nodded, “He’s already made six; his diary, a ring, a necklace, a goblet, a diadem, and Nagini.”

“Did he say about any more after?” 

He shook his head, “The seventh will be the last… he said it’s… a _boy_.” 

The realization hit the two of them simultaneously.


	13. ሰዓት

_Ten years later._

 

Snape never expected to still be the spy, he never expected to have lived this long, and he never expected to be married to you. Most everything, he thought, were mere dreams; wishes and hopes for the future, not something conceivable to him. Yet here he was, sitting next to you in the dining hall, holding hands under the table and running his thumb over your knuckles, catching the wedding band and engagement ring on your finger.

“They’re all so little.” You whispered to him with a giggle, a smile crossing your face. 

“You say that every year.” He replies unenthusiastically.

“They’re like tiny people!” 

“That’s because they are, now  _hush_ darling, Dumbledore is about to speak.” He says sternly, trying to not give in to the smile ready to break his facade. 

He wasn’t surprised when he caught the glances of children he knew; whether they knew him or not. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter being two of them. He watched intently as everyone got their turn in the sorting hat, Draco casting a glance at Snape when he got into Slytherin, and Potter giving everyone a nervous glance, falling on Snape, before sitting and being sorted- a very confusing sorting for him. 

Dumbledore made announcements, such as you being one of the teachers instead of a secondary teacher alongside Hagrid, now having your own classroom and such. He’d introduced the house heads, all standing proudly. Already, he could hear the remarks about himself, though he didn’t care much anymore. He could truly and proudly prove them wrong.

As breakfast finished and the first years were led into their respective houses, you dragged Snape to the stables, claiming you’d had a surprise. 

“(Y/N) if this is  _another_ bloody prank I’m locking you out of our flat.” 

You gave a laugh, “It’s not!”

“Then why are we here?” He stopped and put his hands on his hips.

You shrugged with a smile, “I just wanted alone time with you. We’ve both been busy with work even if it’s not in the school season. I miss you.” 

He dropped his expression, thinking of how to respond. He didn’t get the chance to, your arms wrapping around his neck lovingly interrupted his thoughts. 

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly, hugging you and rubbing your back. 

“It’s okay, Silly Snape. Everything’s been hectic. I understand.” you say, leaning up to him and kissing his cheek. 

Severus tilted his head down and met your lips, giving you a loving smile after, “I love you.” 

“I love you too, dove,” Snape replied, pressing his lips to your hair.

* * *

The two of you finished course planning together at home. Sitting across from each other at the table, he looked up. They’d moved into a new flat for more space, this new one having windows, allowing natural light and a way to easy the stuffiness of the old castle. The moon was beautiful in its glow, and the way the light rays hit your skin just right made you look like you were glowing. 

You looked up, seeing Severus smiling at you, “What?” 

He shakes his head, “Nothing. You’re beautiful.” He says softly, making you chuckle a bit. He’s glad that you’d had yet to be found by The Dark Lord; or perhaps, he’d known, and hasn’t needed some sort of leverage. For a spy, Snape was more than an excellent follower. At this point, he was one of Voldemort’s top men; someone to look up to. And that didn’t push down the gut-wrenching feeling that convulsed in his stomach. 

You stood, walking past him and kissing the top of his head, “I’m going to start a bath,” you said quietly, before entering the bedroom.

Severus sighed, sitting back in his chair. He should follow as such, his shoulders were tense and his back ached, and there was an emotional intimacy to taking a bath with someone that he craved, so he followed behind, watching you feel the temperature of the water and slowly undress. He knew your body better than you do; every mark, blemish, scar, dimple, curve, all of it. He made way to you, surprising you with a kiss to your shoulder before he undressed, watching as you got in the tub, scooting up for he could spoon you from behind.

The way you rested your head on his chest made him feel at home, and he still got that sickeningly sweet feeling in his stomach when you kissed his knuckles. There wasn’t anything better in this moment.

_He forgot about everything when he was with you._


End file.
